Times Have Gone
by nosacredsilence
Summary: 7th year at Hogwarts. Harry and Ron finally find real love. New characters come and change lives. Please read and review.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: yeah, yeah, I don't own anything...just my keyboard. And I don't even own that. My mom does. Argh! throws pencil against the wall  
  
Chapter one  
  
Times have gone  
  
Harry sat alone on the rumbling train, looking out his window for want of something better to do. The scenery flew by as he tried to form thoughts in his head. Everything was so mixed up. This was his last year at his home, the place he knew and loved at first sight and now he was being forced to leave. Leave and start his own life, a life without the security blanket that the school had provided. He had better make this year last for the rest of his life.  
His last melancholy thought escaped his head as his best friend and partner in crime came into the compartment. The first thing Harry noticed was how Ron's hair color had changed. No longer the bright, harsh red it was when they had first met, but it had deepened to a dark auburn that complemented his bright blue eyes. Ron's darker hair now curled around the bottom of his ear, and the curls were as shaggy and unruly as ever. Harry got up and realized that he was nearly as tall as his friend, who was formerly the tallest in their year. Ron will definitely have plenty girls following him this year," Harry thought to himself, nostalgically, this thought instantly bringing him to remember how they both had so much trouble attracting girls when the yearly balls came around. He smiled, and Ron's look brought him back to reality. "You all right, mate?"  
  
Harry laughed and sat back down on the train seat. "Yeah, I'm good. " Ron grinned back, still the awkward, little-boy grin he had since he was young, and sat down next to him.  
"So, erm...see Hermione yet?" said Ron, just to break the silence for Harry had begun to drift into thought again.  
"No, I haven't. Have you?" Harry answered, distractedly, turning his vision towards Ron.  
"Yeah...oh, God. You should see her! You're gonna want to, man. I'm telling you.... Wow." Harry began laughing, and just as he did, a thin girl he didn't recognize walked into their compartment. "Hey, Harry," she said, turning to face them both. Harry heard Ron gulp, and he soon realized why. The girl he didn't recognize was, in fact, Hermione. Her hair was straight and down to her shoulders, nothing like he had last seen. In her jeans and tee shirt, she looked like she belonged in Muggle clothing. He stood up again and took her in his arms, and hugged her.  
"You look...amazing, Hermione." He said, sincerely, and watched her blush and smile at him. Behind them, Ron was ready to smack himself. Why couldn't he have said something witty and adorable instead of just letting his jaw drop when he saw her? Why couldn't he be as smooth as Harry could? He also got up, and went over to his two best friends. He took Hermione from Harry and gave her an intimate hug also. He loved the feeling of her arms around him. They hugged for a minute and broke away, both with happy looks on their faces, albeit Ron's a bit red. They started talking about their summer, what they were looking forward to, and soon enough, Harry had zoned out and was staring out the window, lost in his own little world. The Hogwarts Express pulled up into the station, just as the sky grew dark and the stars began to shine their light down on the excited, eager students that were now piling out of the doors. As the three friends walked down the moonlit pathway, following the familiar sounds of Hagrid's booming voice, they grew quiet and contemplative thinking about what was to come. And if Harry had been paying a little more attention, he would have seen Ron and Hermione's fingers entwined. As witches and wizards of all ages started filling up the Great Hall, the lights above lowered with a flick of Professor Dumbledore's wand and the candles floating in the air lit all at once. The room glowed with an enchanting light, which proceeded in making everyone quiet as Dumbledore cleared his throat and began to talk. "Welcome back to another year at Hogwarts! I do hope you have all had a wonderful summer, and are ready to start your studies with vigor and excitement. Now, before we being sorting the new first years, I have a special person I'd like to introduce you to. She is a transfer from Beauxbatons, a seventh year, and she will be joining us for the remainder of the year. Please give a warm welcome to our new addition, Paris Caron." As he finished speaking, there was a hush over the crowded hall, making it, if possible, even quieter than it was before. A girl of seventeen walked onto the stage where Dumbledore was standing. She was utterly beautiful, but not in the way that everyone notices, flashy and standoutish, with tons of makeup and skanky clothing. No, this girl was naturally gorgeous. Her dark brown hair was long and perfectly straight, passing her shoulders in length. She was dressed in the normal Hogwarts attire, black robes, and much to Harry's pleasure, she was wearing the Gryffindor colors on her tie and the seal on her outer robes. Dumbledore started clapping, and the rest of the students and staff clapped along with him. She walked down the stairs, her robes lightly lifting behind her, as though she was flying. She walked to the Gryffindor table, and Harry soon realized that the only empty seat was the one right next to him. Without paying attention to whatever else was going on up at the front, he watched in a daze as the girl named Paris sat down next to him. He noticed she hadn't smiled. She had a warm look in her amethyst eyes, but to Harry it seemed like she was trying to hide the fact that she felt very alone and uncomfortable. Maybe if he introduced himself... But as he turned to her, he realized his chance was shot. She was already enveloped in conversation with another member of the Gryffindor house, and sure enough, she still wasn't smiling. The look on her face, how she was so solemn and sad- looking, made him want to take her in his arms and hold her and comfort her. She wasn't talking, either, just listening while other people rambled on about unimportant, vapid issues that they so often talked about. She looked like she was caught in a death trap. Harry wondered in awe and horror what could be causing this poor girl to look this way, to feel this way inside. He had to find out. He just had to. Because not figuring it out would eventually end up in his ultimate demise. Well, he knew her name. That was a start, wasn't it?  
  
a/n: just getting started! Read and review, please! Much love... 


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Dude, if I owned Harry Potter, he'd be in my pants every day. Seeing as he's not, I don't own him. Or any character, for that matter.  
  
Chapter 2  
  
Times Have Gone  
  
The meal was over, people were filing out of the Great Hall, but she was still sitting there. Harry, Ron and Hermione began to exit through the doors, but Harry looked back and saw Paris, still where he had left her, looking up at the sky that was reflected into the ceiling. "I'll be...right there. You can leave without me," he murmured, walking over to the girl. Hermione started walking after him, but Ron took her arm and whispered to her. Harry figured it must be something about how the heads should set an example for the rest of the students. Hermione and Ron had been made heads in the middle of the summer holiday, and although Harry felt remorse and jealousy then, he now was emotionless about the whole thing. By the time he had reached the mysterious girl, his friends had left them alone in the empty hall. "A-are you...okay?" his voice came out hoarse. She turned, seemingly startled at the sudden noise, and saw that Harry was standing right behind her.   
  
"Oh! Oh, yes. I'm fine. Really." Her voice was soft and musical, but there seemed to be a sullen note lurking. She turned abruptly back without another word.   
  
Harry winced, taking her actions as a sign of disgust, but he decided to press on. "Are you finished with dinner? Because I could, you know, show you around a bit, or something." It wasn't till then did he realize she hadn't eaten anything.   
  
"Er. I don't think s-"she stopped, seeing Harry's earnest face and pleading expression. "All right, then. I need a tour, I guess." She got up, somewhat hesitantly, as Harry smiled with relief.  
  
"Good." He led her out of the Great Hall. She paused in the huge doorway, a worried look on her face. "What's wrong?"   
  
"I shouldn't be..." She shook her head slightly. "No. I can't do this. I'm sorry." She turned back, but Harry stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. "Wait. Look, I'm not asking you to marry me, or something, I just want to show you around. No strings attached, I promise. Okay?" She looked at him, and smiled.   
  
"Okay." She continued on with him, down the now deserted corridor. Although he was yearning to make the space in between them smaller, she made it a point to keep distance from him. So they walked, down the halls and empty corridors, Harry continuously pointing out classrooms and dormitories, until they came to the girls' dorms.   
  
"Well..." Harry began. "I guess this is goodnight."  
  
"Yeah," she agreed. "I guess so." She started up the stairs, and turned back to face him. "Good night."  
  
"Goodnight," he whispered at her retreating shadow, resisting telling her how he really felt. I love you, is what he wanted to say. But he couldn't, just yet. Because it was clear to him that she didn't feel the same way. Not at all. He walked, defeated, back to his dormitory, where Ron was sitting on the bed next to his. Harry knew he needed to spill to someone. "Ron," he began cautiously. "I think...I'm in love."  
  
"Me too, mate. Me too." Harry was too dazed to actually hear Ron's reaction. He just kept talking.  
  
"That girl, Paris. She just...entranced me. I can't stop thinking about her. She's so...intriguing, you know what I mean? I can't get over her."   
  
"Yeah, and to think I knew her all this time," Ron said, distractedly.   
  
"Ron? What are you talking about? You couldn't have known her, she went to Beauxbatons!"  
  
"No, mate. She's been going here for the same amount of time as we have."   
  
"Who are you talking about?"  
  
"Hermione," answered Ron, with a dreamy smile. Harry almost fell over at the words.   
  
"Ron! What're you getting at? Hermione's our best friend...you...can't!" Harry was too appalled to even make a coherent sentence.   
  
"Yeah, that's what I thought until she...until...we..." Ron got very red in the face and fell back onto his bed.  
  
"You mean...you...did it?" Harry asked, uncertainly. His head was spinning. He sat down in an attempt to stop the dizziness.  
  
"Well, no." Ron looked disappointed, and Harry then knew if Ron had had his way, he and Hermione would still be going at it.   
  
"Kissed?" Harry inquired, knowing the answer already.  
  
"Yeah..." Ron got the dreamy look back on his face again.  
  
Flashback  
  
"Harry, wait," Hermione called after him, but Ron took her arm.   
  
"Come on, 'Mione. We can have some time alone. That's what you really want, isn't it?" Ron grinned suggestively at her. She began to protest, but he quieted her with a finger to her lips, and he led her out the doorway to a coatroom. After pushing the door closed, he wasted no time in pushing her against the wall and kissing her deeply on the mouth. She kissed him back, tentatively at first but then sliding her tongue through his lips and grinding her hips into his now very obvious erection. She was filled with feverish passion that just heightened every time they touched.  
  
After a short session of their passionate kissing, the throbbing in Ron's groin began to cease. He needed more. If only he could coax Hermione into going all the way with him, right there in that closet. During a particularly sloppy French kiss, he snaked his hand between her legs and rubbed hard up and down, She moaned with pleasure and longing, pushing herself into his hand, and invitation for him to rub even harder until she was almost shrieking. She shivered, reaching her climax, and he started to unbutton her jeans with his one free hand. As soon as he had hit the zipper, she pushed him away. "No," she murmured. "It's too far. It's only the first night, Ron."   
  
"So?" he mumbled, fumbling with his own fly, "we've waited this long, why take it slow?" He slipped his pants off. "You've only got one life to live, Hermione."   
  
"Not right now," she said, pushing him completely off of her. She gave him one quick kiss on the lips. "Goodnight, Ronald." She left the steamy coatroom and Ron pulled his jeans back up. He exited after her, watching her retreating figure walking down the dark corridor. He was panting and still quite hard from hearing her moan that way. A cheesy grin spread across his face as he walked back to the Gryffindor dormitories. He was finally getting the girl. He had finally found true love! And who would have known it would be in one of his best friends for the past six years?   
  
End Flashback  
  
a/n: sorry the chapters are so short, but right now I don't got any reviewers! So review and the chaps will be much longer, I promise! Much love. 


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: no. I don't own anything. Just rub it in, okay?

Chapter 3

Times Have Gone

A/n: manichka—thanks so much for the review! I really appreciate it. Also, Ron and Hermione's characters are a little out of whack, because, well, they are both slaves to lust...haha. They'll become more in character soon enough. Here's your guys' next chapter!

Harry lay in bed, still thinking about what he had heard from Ron and what had happened that night. His two best friends were hooking up. He was lovesick for a girl who probably thought him a child. It was only the first night back at Hogwarts, and already things were pointing downwards. He couldn't figure it out. This was supposed to be his best year, and already he was left depressed and alone. Tossing and turning, he realized he wouldn't be able to sleep. He rose from his four-poster bed, and walked to the single wall length window they had in their room. The window he had looked out of so many times. He watched the rain fall. _That's weird, _he thought. _It wasn't raining before._ Lightning flashed before his eyes and thunder shook the whole wing. He watched the trees sway violently with the strong wind. There were no more stars, only black storm clouds filling up the sky. Figures, he thought. That the stars, which he thought so enchanting and beautiful only a couple hours ago, would disappear in a matter of minutes. He sat down quietly on the couch facing the glass and curled up, knees to chest, to contemplate. He thought for a long time, about life, about Ron and Hermione. A streak of lightning hit somewhere in the sky and he could swear that he saw Paris, with her violet eyes and soft features, in the sudden light. He felt a burning sensation in his eyes. She was so beautiful. So perfect. And yet, he couldn't have her. There was no way he would ever get her, ever be hers. He would never experience the love he so badly needed. She was too good for him, and that was it. He would live...

As soon as he thought that, he started doubting it. Would he really live if she didn't love him like he loved her? Would she kill him before Voldemort got the chance? He couldn't be sure. Right now, he felt like dying. And only because she didn't look back when she walked to her dormitory. He stood there until he couldn't see her anymore. And still she never looked at him. He sighed, softly so to not wake any people up. And so he sat, for hours. And hour after hour, he thought, maybe I should sleep now, but dismissed the thought and keep sitting.

Ron awoke with a yawn. He sat up and rubbed his eyes. He looked at the bed next to him, and realized that Harry was not in his bed. "Harry?" he croaked in a hoarse morning voice.

"Mmm...yeah...over here, Ron." He called, from his spot on the couch.

"Harry! What are you doing over there?" Ron said, incredulously.

"Couldn't sleep...watched the sunrise...must've fallen asleep over here about an hour ago." Harry muttered.

"Oh. Well, breakfast is in 10 minutes. You might wanna get up now." Harry got up from his spot, unwillingly, not feeling any better than he had been all night. He threw on clothes over his crumpled boxers, and robes over his clothes. He stumbled down the stairs, clutching the banister in an effort from falling asleep. He got to the Great Hall just as Dumbledore had begun his speech about the first day of classes. Harry snuck to his seat next to Hermione Paris was nowhere to be seen. He was disappointed and had lost his appetite. He stared at his plate of food until she appeared, like a fairy, seemingly out of nowhere, and slid in the chair next to him. Their gazes locked for a split second, his green eyes on her violet ones, and she looked down. He noticed dark circles under her sparkling eyes, like she hadn't gotten any sleep. She didn't seem to be hungry, either, as she let her gaze drift anywhere but his eyes. _Why won't she look at me? _he thought, sadly. Once people were finishing up with their meals, she got up and vanished through the doors. Harry racked his mind for a reason to follow her. He looked down at the table. Her schedule lay there, next to her completely full plate. He was thrilled for an excuse to be alone with her in the corridor.

Paris's POV

She had to get out of there. There was no way she would last another moment sitting next to him. They had made eye contact at the beginning of the meal, and she had felt herself slipping more and more in love with him. She couldn't let that happen again. She couldn't fall in love with him, she would be putting him in fatal danger. But there was something about him. He was beautiful, that's for sure. She could stare at him for hours and never become tired of looking at him. She loved his earnestness, his politeness, his shy nature. Oh, what she would give to be in his arms right now! She felt è soft hand on her arm, and like God was reading her mind, he was standing behind her, holding out her schedule, somewhat sheepishly. "You left this in the Great Hall," he said, quietly, awaiting her reaction to his sudden appearance.

"Did I?" She said, tentatively. "Thank you," she said, taking it from him and beginning to walk away.

"You know, I couldn't help noticing that-"She turned sharply as she heard his words. Was he going to mention the dark shadows under her eyes, a reminder of her sleepless night? "-We have Potions together first period," he finished, as she let out a silent sigh of relief. "Would you like to walk with me?"

She hadn't expected this. "Err..." She stalled for extra time to think. "I..I left my quill in my dormitory. I have to go get it."

"Then I'll wait for you, if that's all right," he told her, looking into her face for an answer to why she was trying to avoid him.

She saw the earnestness she admired so much in his eyes, and felt herself relenting. "Okay," she agreed. She ran up the stairs, mentally kicking herself for giving in. In truth, she hadn't left anything up in her dormitory, but since she had told him she had, there was nothing left for her to do but retrieve the imaginary forgotten quill.

Harry's POV

As she came down the stairs, she gave off the illusion that she was floating, as if on a cloud. He wondered distractedly if she was really from this earth, and not from heaven. He smiled shyly at her, and together they walked towards the Potions wing.

Meanwhile, Ron and Hermione were experiencing major sexual tension still lingering from the night before. They walked silently out of the Great Hall. "Hermione," Ron started, haltingly, "are you mad at me? Because, well, you haven't spoken to me once since last night."

"No, Ron, I'm not mad at you." Hermione grinned bashfully. "Actually, the only reason I haven't talked to you is because if I did, I'd feel the overwhelming urge to kiss you, and I had a feeling that would have been a bit inappropriate. "

Ron blushed profusely and pulled her around a corner when no one was looking. He kissed her hard on the mouth, and stuck his tongue between her soft lips. Their tongues played games in their mouths as Ron quickly unbuttoned her robes and slid his had under her crisp white shirt, up to her lacy bra. He felt her smooth, flat stomach and her round, voluptuous breasts and began massaging under her bra. She moaned at his touch and undid his jeans. She put her hands in his pants, in his boxers, and brought them around the front working on his erection. He just grew harder with her every move and pressed her against the wall. No longer satisfied with her upper body, he slid one hand down her jeans and began to touch her most sensitive area. She squealed with pleasure. They continued until they both came to, and pulled part, adjusting their clothing for their first class of the year.

A/n: chapter 4 is halfway done, that should be out tonight or tomorrow. Keep reviewing!


	4. Chapter 4

Harry saw Ron and Hermione sneak in to the classroom extremely sheepishly, and there was no doubt in his mind what they were up to. He felt happy for them, but at the same time there was a nagging voice in the back of his mind, saying, "you should really be paying attention to what you best friends are doing," but he hadn't the energy. After all, he was too preoccupied with the mysterious life of this goddess-like girl sitting next to him. He turned his head inconspicuously to look at her, making it seem like he was paying attention while really watching her every move. He could hear Snape's voice droning in the background about the healing properties of essence of murtlap tentacles, which he already knew about, having to use them in his fifth year. But unlike him, Paris was taking diligent notes. He studied her features, her dark purple eyes, framed with thick black lashes and perfectly arched eyebrows, her small nose, and her full, bruised lips. He loved the way her shiny, dark hair reflected the tiny lights around the classroom when she leaned her head over her parchment as she scribbled notes.

"Potter," Snape drawled, in a menacing voice. "What are we discussing right now?"

"Erm...Murtlap tentacles, sir. And how the essence of them provides relief for cuts and burns."

"Very well." Snape gave a last glare over his hooked nose at him, and began talking in the same monotonous voice that had put him to sleep during class so often in the past seven years. And with the lack of sleep he had gotten last night, kit was increasingly difficult to stay awake. But soon enough, people were putting away heir parchment and quills, and scurrying out of the classroom. Paris was the fist to leave, and Harry didn't see her until supper. She sat next to him again, probably because he was the only one that talked to her. The girls were jealous of her stunning looks, and the boys knew she was too good for any of them. He had even heard gossip in the halls: "_That Paris girl, what a stuck-up bitch! She doesn't talk to anyone!" _He felt a wave of sympathy for her.

She was picking at her salad when he turned his attention back on her. "So that's how she stays so thin. She hardly ever eats," he noted, sorrowfully. This girl was forcing herself to deal with her problems alone, and Harry knew that she needed his help. And from the way she looked at him now and then, he was sure that she knew it, too.

And so it went, for a couple of days. Harry began to wonder how she reacted with other students. Was she this quiet, or did she talk to them and just...not him? He proceeded in asking Hermione, who shared a dormitory with the mysterious but alluring girl.

"Well," Hermione said, choosing her words carefully. "She's è bit...reclusive, like. She never really does talk to anyone. I feel bad for her, so I try and make small talk, but she answers with short answers, and then turns away. You can't get a conversation out of that girl."

Harry nodded contemplatively. He knew all too well what she was talking about.

"You know, she did ask me for a good charm for under-eye bags," Hermione added, on an afterthought. "I gave her some, but...doesn't do much, does it?"

"No, I suppose not. Do you ever see her sleep?" Harry asked, concernedly. You couldn't live without sleep. And Paris, he suspected, got hardly any, if that.

"She's always writing when I fall asleep. I got a glimpse at some of her parchment. All poetry. Quite good, actually. Love, and...entrapment, death. Depressing, if you ask me."

"Seems like you got a bit more than a 'glimpse', 'Mione," Harry said, dryly. Snooping didn't seem too mature, and they were seventeen.  
"I was curious. It's hard not to be, the way she acts," she snapped defensively. Harry flinched at the tone of her voice. The last thing he wanted to do was get one of his best friends mad at him. Her voice softened as she added, "look, I have to meet Ron in the library. Would you like to join me?"

"No, that's all right. I'm going to...get some schoolwork done." He smiled at her encouragingly. "Go on. I'm sure he's waiting for you."

"Well, if you're sure," she said, turning to go. Harry and Hermione's relationship was at the point where she knew that "going to do schoolwork" really meant going to find Paris, and she knew that "meeting Ron in the library" meant hooking up with Ron in the library.

She walked briskly away, her straight hair flying behind her as she moved. Harry watched her go, thinking hard about what they had just talked about. He hadn't realized that he wasn't moving until a tall blonde figure rammed into him only seconds after Hermione had voiced out of sight. It was Draco Malfoy. He motioned towards the direction Hermione had jut vanished and said, "So, Potter, you going with that Mudblood? I knew you two would give in sooner or later." He laughed maliciously.

"No, Malfoy, I'm not dating her. Ron is," Harry corrected, without thinking.

"The Weasel and Granger, eh? Well, we'll see how long that lasts, wont we?" He slapped Harry hard on the back. Harry winced slightly at the unexpected pain. Malfoy swept away with Crabbe and Goyle cackling at Draco's apparent wit.

All the while that was going on, Ron and Hermione had met in the library. "Ready for studying?" Ron asked, wiggling his eyebrows at her.

"Of course," she said, laughing, as he pulled her in for è full lipped kiss. Hermione pulled away, checking to see if Madam Pince was anywhere to be found. The entire library was empty. They resumed kissing and Ron clutched her ass suggestively. Before long, their robes were shed and they were sliding along the bookshelves. He fumbled with the buttons on her shirt and she pulled his over his head. Her skirt went up and his pants went down. He tugged at her panties, and she guided his hands, slipping them down to her ankles. She kicked them off and slid his boxers down. They were added to the pile of their clothing, strewn haphazardly in the reference section. They grinded together, pushed against the wall. She loved the feeling of him against her. She could feel him throbbing with desire. All that was left was her bra. He put his hands around her back and unclasped it, sliding of her shoulders and tossed it aside. Now they were both fully naked, rubbing their hands all over the other's body. He slipped a hand down and massaged her until she moaned. He slowly slid a finder in, loosening her up for what he hoped would come. She gasped, already breathless, and he sucked her neck. The heat from his body was radiating, and she wanted more. She pressed her body into his. He whispered seductively in her ear. She relented and giggled nervously. He slipped his finger out, and went onto working himself in, as gently as possible. He was halfway in when she dug her nails into his shoulders and moaned. "Holy shit." He paused, not moving, while her fingers relaxed. He slid all the way in and she groaned. This new experience was more delicious than she had ever imagined. He came out and pushed back in, full force, and she moaned loudly with more pleasure that she'd ever experienced. They fell to the floor in oblivious ecstasy and he continually slid in and out of her. She was almost screaming his name, not wanting him to stop, ever. The pleasure just kept growing with every thrust of his hips and soon they were rocking in the same motion, slowing down so she could reach her peak without pain. Ron gave a pleasured sigh as he reached his, but stayed in her until she was done squealing, and she lay of him breathing hard, and uttered her last moan.

Thy lay there for minutes, catching their breath and thinking happily about what they had just experienced before getting dressed.


End file.
